


A Week With Crowley and Aziraphale

by Lexitennant2



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Crowley Was Raphael Before Falling (Good Omens), Drabble Collection, Ineffable Husbands Week 2019, M/M, One Shot, One Word Prompts, Other, ineffablehusbands
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-02
Updated: 2019-09-09
Packaged: 2020-10-05 20:51:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 5,515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20495147
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lexitennant2/pseuds/Lexitennant2
Summary: All the fics inside of here are meant for the ineffablehusbandsweek which is from September 2nd-8th. Everything from clumsy dancing to a peaceful rainy morning.You can find everything you need to know about the prompts by going here ---> https://ineffablehusbandsweek.tumblr.com/post/186773188491/official-ineffable-husbands-week-prompts





	1. A Crash Course In Dancing

**Author's Note:**

> First prompt is dancing

"No dear, you have to put your- oh no that's not how."

There was an exasperated hiss and a few mutters of "_oh dear."_

"I thought you said this would be easy." Crowley gritted out through clenched teeth, his eyes almost burning holes in the tips of his snake skin shoes as he stared down at them in determination.

"Well..it came easily enough for me. We're just doing a simple box step." Aziraphale said sheepishly, nudging Crowley's foot with his own so Crowley would keep moving.

The red head made another hissing noise and pulled away from Aziraphale. He didn't want to admit that something as simple as a box step was tripping him up, though it was rather obvious by how many times he kept stepping on Aziraphale's shoes, or started to lose count even though it was just a repetitious three count.

"Now dear," Aziraphale started, seeing in that the demon was getting increasingly frustrated, his back tense and his hands tugging at the already chaotic mess of spiked red hair.

"Yes, yes I know." Crowley snapped. "I'll get it eventually."

"We don't have to do it if you don't want to." Aziraphale said softly.

Crowley shook his head and moved back into place, one hand easily sliding around Aziraphale's waist and splaying wide of his lower back, and the other interlacing with the angel's hand.

"Look, I learned the Gavotte for you", Crowley shuddered, "I can learn the bloody waltz as well." He bit the inside of his cheek and looked at everywhere but Aziraphale as he admitted, "besides, I know this means a lot to you."

Aziraphale's lips moved into a tender smile and he let out a small giggle at how embarrassed Crowley looked. 

"Thank you dear. You really are quite nice." Aziraphale teased, causing Crowley to make a noise that possibly was supposed to words.

Instead of slamming Aziraphale into a wall like the first time Aziraphale had ever called him _nice, _Crowley just stepped in closer and started their waltz up again, muttering a quick "Shudup."

Aziraphale gave a hearty laugh which died down to a shocked exclamation of "how are you even moving your hips like that?!"

"Its not my fault!" Crowley whined, pouting and glaring down at his hips like a child.

Aziraphale sighed, and switched their positions so his hand was now on Crowley's lower back, and Crowley's hand was resting on his shoulder.

"Maybe I should try leading?" He suggested gently.

Crowley raised an eyebrow and looked ready to protest, but eventually just shrugged and waited patiently for Aziraphale. 

"Ok, now that we have switched you're going to be starting with the right foot back, and then everything continues as before. Got it?"

Crowley nodded, took a deep breath, and fell into the dance.

It was more natural too him now, he wasn't as worried as he had been before about having to be the lead; he rather liked just following Aziraphale as they repeated the box step. He found himself stepping on Aziraphale's toes less, and his hips were being as compliant as they could be under the circumstances.

"Remind me why we have to do this again." Crowley snarked, not willing to let Aziraphale know that he was starting to enjoy this. 

"Because Anathema wanted us to join that couples dancing competition next week, and we told her yes."

"We did that why?" Crowley winced.

"Because it's going to be fun Crowley." Aziraphale smiled and surprised Crowley by leading the demon into a small twirl. "And even though you won't say it, you love hanging out with everyone down in Tadfield."

Crowley grunted and twirled back into Aziraphale's arms with his usual snake like grace.

"I suppose you're right." He said, scrunching up his nose as Aziraphale leaned up to kiss the tip of it.

"That's the spirit." Aziraphale said brightly.

"Now, we're going to try the basic progressive, so we're moving around the room, instead of staying in one spot."

Crowley huffed but didn't complain anymore.

His angel still surprised him sometimes, but he found himself quite liking this one. Demons danced and Angels didn't, but here they were, with an angel in the lead, getting excited over a simple waltz, while the demon trailed behind albeit not too reluctant.

Especially since the angel flushed every time Crowley leaned down to give him an apologetic kiss after stepping on his feet. And if Aziraphale started to purposefully shove his feet in Crowley's way so the demon would step on them...well neither of them brought it up. 


	2. The Feeling Of Rain

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Second Prompt: Rain
> 
> ( a bit of a longer story this time)

Crowley had always liked the rain.

You could blame his reptilian side for that probably. Overcast skies and humid air always put him in a good mood - which made him stand out even more from the population of humans he lived amongst.

There were days where he'd just stand in the rain, letting it soak through his clothing and his hair, and he'd grin like a maniac, scaring anyone who found him like that.

Aziraphale had scolded him many times, especially when he would arrive at the bookshop dripping wet, the water leaving puddles on the wooden floor. Crowley would shrug him off with a simple, "it's just water", and then collapse onto the couch in the back. He always made sure to make it water proof though because it would ease Aziraphale, and he rather liked the couch and didn't need to see it get moldy from being damp all the time.

Crowley always tried to get the angel to go in the rain with him, but it was impossible to do so. The angel was stubborn when he wanted to be, and he always started his arguments with fussing about his clothes getting wet. As if they weren't capable of miracling away the water afterwards, or making the clothes waterproof.

It was the idea of it Crowley supposed.

Even after everything had happened, Aziraphale was still a bundle of worries and stress. Crowley didn't remember a time that he'd ever seen Aziraphale fully relax.

They were sitting in the book shop like usual, Aziraphale sipping his hot cocoa and reading some victorian era book for the hundredth time, and Crowley was laying on the couch, a plan starting to form in his mind.

"Hey angel, do you know what the weathers going to be like tonight?" He asked as casually as he could.

Aziraphale made a non comital noise, and Crowley could hear some rustling. "It's supposed to rain tonight dear, why?" Aziraphale asked airily. 

Crowley wasn't facing Aziraphale, so he had no idea how the angel would react to his next words, so he decided to get up and face the music. He arranged himself so he was sitting upright and turned towards Aziraphale. That seemed to get the angel's attention and Aziraphale set his book down.

"Is something wrong dear?" Aziraphale asked cocking his head to the side like a confused dog.

"No, everything's fine." Crowley cleared his throat nervously and splayed his legs out more, trying to give off the air of confidence.

"I wanted to ask a favor of sorts-"

"What did we talk about Crowley?" Aziraphale interrupted.

Crowley stopped and pouted, of all the bloody times Aziraphale had to remember their new arrangement. Which wasn't really a new arrangement and was more so only affecting Crowley. The angel had given a long spiel after the apocalypse that now that they were on the same side now they needed to have absolute trust in each other. Crowley thought that they already had it, but Aziraphale had explained that him keeping his sunglasses on all the time would encourage him to lie since Aziraphale wouldn't be able to see his eyes and determine whether the demon was telling the truth or not.

So there went the sunglasses, unless they were in public or Aziraphale forgot to mention to Crowley that the demon should take them off. Crowley was a little hurt that the angel still needed a visual to tell him Crowley wasn't lying, but the demon assumed that old habits died hard and he tried not to let his emotions show too much in front of Aziraphale.

Crowley let out a sigh and took off his glasses, laying them gently down onto the seat cushion beside him.

"As I was saying," he drawled, throwing a pointed look at Aziraphale, "I wanted to ask a favor of sorts. You do something for me - just this once - and in return I'll do something for you."

Aziraphale raised an eyebrow and shifted forward so he was leaning all his weight on the chairs arm rest closest to Crowley.

"I'm intrigued." He said, waving his hand for Crowley to continue.

"I will read a book, _one _book only let me reiterate, if you go out in the rain with me tonight."

Aziraphale's face scrunched up with displeasure. "What is your obsession with the rain." Aziraphale huffed.

Crowley sheepishly looked away and that made Aziraphale lean in even closer, seeing that Crowley was becoming uncomfortable with question. Crowley looked down to where his sunglasses were, resisting the urge to snatch them up. They vanished from his line of sight as soon as he looked at them, and he turned his head to find them in the angel's hand.

"That's not fair." He murmured.

Aziraphale rolled his eyes and snapped his finger, sending the sunglasses somewhere inside the shop. Or maybe, because Aziraphale despised them so much, he'd sent them to the Arabian Desert so a camel could step on it.

"Well?" Aziraphale asked expectantly.

"Well..." Crowley took a deep breath and tried to keep eye contact with Aziraphale. "Because it means a lot to me and i'd like to share it with you. You always talk down about it but you haven't even _tried _it." There was a small begging tone to Crowley's words and Aziraphale's face softened.

"I get to chose the book then." He said eventually. 

"As long as it's not boring." Crowley said smiling, excited that he'd gotten Aziraphale to agree with him. His smile dropped as he thought it through and changed to a grimace, "and whatever you choose, it better bloody not be Oscar Wilde."

* * *

Crowley spent the rest of the day struggling to read Shakespeares "_Much Ado About Nothing."_ He wouldn't admit it to Aziraphale but the reason why didn't like to read was due to the strain it put on his eyes. He couldn't go longer than ten minutes before a dull ache would start behind his eyes, and blossom into a full blown headache.

He counteracted the strain from his eyes by closing his eyes every now and then, and telling Aziraphale that he was just processing all that he had read. Aziraphale had been taken away by how into the book Crowley was, and didn't make any further comments when the demon shut his eyes.

The things he did for his angel, Crowley thought to himself as the dull headache returned after another bought of reading.

He was nearly half way done when the soft patter of rain hit the shop windows.

Crowley looked away from the book eagerly and set it down open faced on the table. Aziraphale sent him a disapproving look and reached over to close it properly. 

"Let's get going angel, we'll start with just a drizzle." Crowley leaped off the couch and launched for the door, not waiting for Aziraphale to catch up. As soon as he was outside he lifted his head up and just let the rain splatter onto his face. The water was cool but the swirling humid heat cancelled it out. 

He turned back to the shop and crooked a finger for Aziraphale to come out from the shelter of the bookshops doorway, and step into the rain.

Aziraphale hesitantly stepped out and shuddered as the rain's pace changed, going from a light drizzle to a steady rain fall. Lightning lit up the night sky, showing off Crowley's tender and welcoming grin and Aziraphale's hesitant eyes.

"Its just water." Crowley said soothingly, urging the angel to come closer to him.

The streets were pleasantly empty - neither side was sure if the other had miracled it that way - and the soft warm glow from the streetlights caused shadows to dance over their faces. To Crowley, Aziraphale had never looked more beautiful, with the soft light framing his body, and his curls getting matted down from the rain.

Aziraphale was having similar thoughts, as he watched Crowley make a large spinning motion with his arms spread wide open.

"Just breathe it in." Crowley yelled.

Aziraphale's eyes widened. "You're crazy!" He called back, wrapping his arms around his cold figure.

Crowley paused and stood stock still, his body turned towards Aziraphale, but his head was still titled up towards the sky. He said something and Aziraphale moved closer, unable to hear over the pounding rain.

"What dear?"

Crowley looked down at him just as another lightning flash illuminated the sky. Crowley's yellow eyes were a beacon in the rain, drawing Aziraphale in as the demon regarded him in silence. A slender hand cupped Aziraphale's round chin, and Crowley leaned down, his eyes locked on Aziraphale's blue ones.

Aziraphale shuddered but it wasn't from the cold rain.

"Maybe I am crazy." Crowley whispered, his lips mere inches away from Aziraphale's, his eyes searching for an answer to a question he didn't dare ask, but Aziraphale was more than willing to answer.

"Does that scare you?" Crowley asked, the rain pounding around them faded to the background as Aziraphale whispered, "no," and pulled Crowley into a soft but determined kiss.

Maybe Aziraphale didn't hate the rain as much as he used to, Crowley certainly loved it even more.


	3. The Question

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Third Prompt: Fall

Crowley had never meant to fall.

At the time he didn't really understand what he was getting into. Hanging out with his younger brother and the rest of them, just talking and asking questions.

As an angel, Crowley had always been curious. He assumed the almighty was too kind to tell him he annoyed her with all his questions, but he wanted to know why things were as they were. He wanted to know why the garden was being built, and why he was assigned to build stars instead of tend to the plants that grew on the Earth's surface.

He fit right in with Lucifer's group because he wanted answers to questions too. But he didn't ask the questions with malicious intent, he was just a curious archangel that had questions only God could answer.

His fall, the switch from Raphael to Crowley, was the long awaited answer.

Aziraphale tried to coax the story out of him a few times, but Crowley never had the courage. He remembered how he'd been in heaven and how highly regarded he was by other angels. Even the higher level principalities respected him and his work. He'd crossed paths with Aziraphale back then a few times, and he became enraptured. It happened just as fast the second time, when they met on the garden wall.

Aziraphale, and many of the other angels, didn't remember the fallen. It was general knowledge of course that the demons had once been angels, but no one had any recollection of who the fallen were. No one would be able to recognize Crowley as Raphael, the archangel that brought forth stars, and supernovas; no one would ever be able to tell that Beelzebub was once the most cheerful of the lot, spending their time singing to the younger angels.

It was a few days after the apocalypse that wasn't, and Crowley was standing in his plant room, awkwardly avoiding the gaze of at least a dozen trembling plants.

He was a mess, and that was putting it lightly. His eyes were rimmed with red, and his hands were shaking just as badly as the leaves surrounding him. He was wearing a pair of loosely hanging sweat pants and an old shirt of Aziraphale's that hung over his thinner frame. It was left unbuttoned except for a few at the bottom. His spiked hair was probably the worse of it, it was completely chaotic, standing on end like a scared animals fur and lacking its usual shine.

The days that followed the apocalypse had hit Crowley like a train wreck. He was finally free from Hell, they wouldn't be ordering him around so much and he could be left alone with Aziraphale. But then the doubts had come swirling in. Aziraphale was loyal to a fault, the fact that he had gone against Heaven - even if it had been to do good - was a miracle in itself, so imaging that Aziraphale would stay with Crowley on _their own side _felt as probable as God's favorite musical switching from The Sound Of Music to The Rocky Horror Picture Show. And if he lost Aziraphale, Crowley would truly be left alone. He had been banished from heaven, left hell, he didn't have anywhere to go or anywhere to consider a home except the book shop. Or more accurately, his home was wherever Aziraphale was.

He'd been rattled after that, shutting himself away in his flat, too scared to fall asleep for another century. He'd stood rooted to the same spot of his bedroom for a good couple hours before his body went into autopilot and he spent another couple hours over watering his plants.

He snapped out of it when he became aware of the quiet gurgling screams of an almost drowned Bonsai, and he'd fled the room.

Crowley didn't like feeling this vulnerable, this pathetic. He was still a demon, he'd gotten what he'd wanted. He should be screaming from the rooftops not wallowing in self-pity and fearing that the voices in his head might be telling the truth.

As it was, Aziraphale hadn't come to check up on him.

They'd ended up going their separate ways after dinner at the Ritz - he'd already begun to feel jittery about the whole thing being over, left over adrenaline, so he'd made an excuse that he would let the angel be for a while so Aziraphale could get reacquainted with his bookshop. Aziraphale had given him a saddened look, but maybe that was just Crowley's interpretation and the angel was actually relieved to see him gone.

Crowley found himself kneeling on the cool tile of the plant room, and just let himself fold up into a fetal position on the floor. His whole body shuddered and he felt moisture welling up in his eyes.

His plants watched over him, upset that they couldn't do anything because well...they were simply just plants.


	4. Just A Taste

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fourth Prompt: Senses (taste)

Crowley leaned forward, his gaze following the metal fork loaded with a soft buttery cake. 

The piece seemed to move in slow motion as it reached plump and soft lips, already covered with crumbs from the piece before it.

Aziraphale put the large bite into his mouth as whole and Crowley felt a trickle of sweat down his neck as the angel's tongue darted out to lick some left over blue icing from the fork.

He was saying something as he set the fork down, but Crowley was utterly focused on a stripe of blue icing that hovered at the corner of Aziraphale's lip.

It was _taunting _him.

Crowley leaned forward even more so, nearly dipping his elbow into his untouched caramel pudding.

Aziraphale was looking at him funny and Crowley had an out of body experience. On one hand he knew how he must look, staring so intently at the corner of Aziraphale's mouth, and how awkwardly his spindly body was pitching forward. On the other hand he was far too enraptured by the angel's lips which were now turned down in worry as Aziraphale asked him, "what's the matter dear boy?"

Crowley leaned closer still and put one hand on Aziraphale's shoulder to steady himself. He could feel the angelic warmth through the tan jacket Aziraphale wore, the fabric just as soft as the angel himself.

He used his other hand to push up his sunglasses so they wouldn't get in the way and Aziraphale croaked out his name.

This intrigued Crowley.

The demon wondered what the angel was seeing in his eyes.

He dove forward, and very slowly licked up the blue strip of frosting, his tongue enriched by the sweet butter cream icing, and the natural taste of Aziraphale's skin underneath it.

Crowley pulled back just as quickly as he had ascended on the angel, and splayed himself backwards in his chair, his hands folded neatly in his lap. His glasses fell into place from a top his head with a minor bit of coaxing.

Aziraphale was sitting there shell shocked, his eyes glazed over as he watched Crowley lick his own lips with his forked tongue. The angel looked absolutely nothing like a principality and everything like a cherub. Dressed all in unassuming colors, white curls and large cheeks, plump body and _adorably_ flushed face.

Crowley, being himself, let out a noise that was quite common in his vernacular. A muttered "ngk".

He gained control over himself far quicker than Aziraphale was starting to lean over in his own seat, staring Crowley down as if the demon was the next pastry to be devored.

"Why'd you do that?" The angel asked hoarsely, his eyes regaining some clarity, the blush fading away.

Crowley fiddled with his spoon, drawing out the moment. 

He scooped a generous amount of pudding onto his fork and with wickedly ate it up, making sure to flick his tongue out at intervals, loving how the angel's eyes followed his movements.

Crowley put the spoon down and shrugged.

"I just wanted a taste."

Aziraphale's flush returned.


	5. Mischievous Plants

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt 5: Argue

Aziraphale stomped over and filled with righteous anger, slammed his book down onto the desk, missing Crowley's head by mere inches.

Crowley startled awake and blearily looked over to see Aziraphale immediately apologetic and caressing the book he had just pounded down into the oak wood of the desk.

"Wha 'r ya doin?" Crowley asked around a loud yawn, his arms stretching high above his body making his shirt ride up to reveal a sliver of pale skin.

Aziraphale was momentarily distracted before pointing at the book he'd set down once again - but gentler this time.

"There are water marks all over the book." He huffed, and Crowley squinted down at the torn and worn copy of some French authors book.

"You sure it wasn't there before?" He asked nonchalantly, standing up the desk so he could work on stretching his legs.

Aziraphale's cheeks flushed brighter as Crowley bent his body in ways that no mere human could contort themselves into and good lord those pants were especially tight around the demons as- Aziraphale shook himself out of his thoughts and crossed his arms over his chest.

"I know my book Crowley." He sniped.

"I never said you didn't , I'm just saying it could have been there before." Crowley snarked back, stopping his stretching so he could fumble over to the desk to find his sunglasses.

"This is the third time this week." Aziraphale hissed as Crowley frowned over the brim of the sunglasses he'd just placed on his face.

"You and your...your..._stupid_ plants needing to be misted everyday! Getting their water droplets all over _my _books." Aziraphale picked up the worn book and held it to his chest as if it were a newborn child.

Crowley looked at him taken aback by the outburst.

"I'm sorry angel, I wasn't thinking when I placed by plants by your books." Crowley simpered, slithering forward like a snake towards its prey. He closed the distance between them, the only thing in the way was the book.

"Well...as long as you've seen the, um, error of your ways." Aziraphale stuttered and tried to remain stern, but his body was trembling from the close contact with Crowley and was already shimmying the book out from between himself and Crowley so that he could be pressed all the way agains the demon.

Crowley smiled tenderly and kissed the angel long and deep, an apology and a promise for more later.

The angel pulled him down further and started nipping at Crowley's jawline and further down his neck.

Over the angel's head, Crowley had enough of his wits about him to stare down a particular group of small potted plants in the corner of the shop. They were the closest ones to Aziraphale's books, and were the clear culprits of the water damage done to the books. In the most human terms, they were going through their teenage face.

They were mischievous little plants and liked to stir up trouble every now and then.

Sensing their masters stare, they knew they had been caught and began to appropriately shake from fear.

Crowley grinned wickedly and let his senses become over flooded with Aziraphale's touch. He'd deal with the misbehaving plants later.


	6. My Stars

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt 6: Destination

_Des-ti-na-tion_

_Noun: The place to which someone or something is going or being sent._

_Adjective: Being a place that people will make a special trip to visit._

Crowley tugged nervously at the edge of the picnic blanket, using the frayed strings as something to focus on besides his pounding heart.

Aziraphale hadn't said a word since they'd arrived. He'd chattered away aimlessly while they packed, fretting over how many books to bring and how excited he was. On the car ride over he'd switched the conversation to lecturing Crowley about his driving and also navigating.

Crowley didn't need Aziraphale to tell him where to go, _Alpha Centauri's _location was engraved into his very being. He would always find it, but it was something for the angel to do during the long drive so Crowley didn't object to it.

But now that the car had been parked, and they had a picnic set up on the roof of the car overlooking the stars, - A & B - Aziraphale hadn't said a word.

Crowley wondered if maybe Aziraphale was regretting coming with. That the significance of this trip was too much.

He had already rejected Crowley's earlier offer to escape here, and the demon had been surprised when two weeks after the not apocalypse the angel was the one to suggest they take a break from Earth and go off somewhere.

Crowley had been thrilled, but now as he watched Aziraphale's solemn face, his fears were slowly taking over.

"I remember you know." Aziraphale said, breaking the silence.

Crowley titled his head in confusion.

"Remember what angel?"

"That you created the stars once."

Crowley took a sharp intake of breath and looked away from Aziraphale.

That had been ages ago, eons. A subject that he never dared to bring up and hoped he'd never had too.

"Huh, I suppose I did." He shrugged and tried to play it off, the entire time his insides in turmoil as he remembered the heat in his hands as he molded stars into what they were today, as he breathed on them to make them glow.

"Crowley, can you...tell me about them?" Aziraphale asked so quietly, that if they weren't in the middle of space Crowley wouldn't have heard them.

Crowley jerked his head back to Aziraphale in astonishment and found the angel watching him with sad but hopeful eyes.

The demon swallowed and tugged on a curl of hair that wouldn't stay spiked and had nestled itself right above his eyes.

"Yeah, sure, er, why not." He awkwardly scrambled for the bottle of wine that he'd stashed in the picnic blanket at their feet and took a long swig of it, hardly taking any time at all to realize the cork had only disappeared because Aziraphale had whisked it away.

Aziraphale waited patiently but Crowley couldn't form any words, not just yet anyways.

The angel sighed softly and reached a hand up to remove Crowley's sunglasses. He put them in the basket and then gently pushed Crowley down so he was laying down on the car's hood. Crowley watched in surprise as the angel laid himself down alongside Crowley and rested his head on the demons chest. Crowley hesitantly wrapped one arm around the angels waist and clutched onto the soft fabric of the waist coat.

"It's alright dear, just relax and the words will come." Aziraphale said soothingly.

Crowley swallowed loudly and looked directly into the stars bright light, his eyes watering as he clutched the angel closer.

He told the angel about the formation of the stars. How warm and bright they were in the beginning, how their colors were taken from his hair and his clothes. He talked about how he still remembered where every star he ever created was, and every minor detail of every planet he'd created. Aziraphale watched him with awe as Crowley delved more into the story, his tone becoming more excited as he opened up more and more about his part in creation.

"And finally, I made one more set of stars. Humans call the constellation Ophiuchus and Serpens. It was my final work." He let a tear fall and curled inwards around Aziraphale, who took it all in stride and started petting his hair and leaving soft kisses all over his face.

"They're all wonderful Crowley." The angel said, and Crowley sobbed even more.

He coveted this moment for the rest of his life. This one, little destination compared to the rest of the cosmos, would have a special place in his heart forever.


	7. It's Ineffable

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt 7, Ineffable , and the last one for the challenge !!!! :,(
> 
> (bonus one tomorrow tho !!)
> 
> Its real fucking short but I hope ya'll enjoy it.

"You really mean it?" Crowley choked out, his hands shaking in his lap.

Aziraphale stood in between his thighs and tilted his face up by grasping his chin gently. 

"I really do dear." Aziraphale whispered, tilting downwards so his face was directly across from Crowley's, their noses almost touching.

"I..I can't believe." Crowley stubbornly said, his hand coming up to caress Aziraphale's cheek.

"Say it again, ngk, please."

Crowley sank into the softest and tenderest kiss Aziraphale could give him. He pulled angel into his lap and clutched onto him for dear life.

"I love you." Aziraphale said as the kiss ended.

"I love you with all my heart, my wily serpent." And he leaned in to kiss Crowley again.

The demon had silent tears streaming down his face as he touched every part of Aziraphale, craving more even though they were so close together.

"I love you too." He said hoarsely, licking his lips and closing his eyes as Aziraphale left butterfly kisses all over his face.

"Love is a good thing though." Aziraphale teased, resting his forehead against Crowley's.

Crowley kept his eyes shut as he said, "it's a good thing we're on our own side then. Hell would have reprimanded me for that."

Aziraphale laughed and kisses his demon again.

What Crowley had said was true, no one would come down from the heaven's or crawl up from hell anytime soon to check up on Aziraphale and Crowley. After all, they were on their side now. And on their side, their love was _ineffable._


	8. A Little Bit Of Sin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bonus Prompt (Sin aka I use some of the seven deadly sins wooo)  
Hope you enjoy :)

Crowley sometimes wondered what it'd be like if Aziraphale had been the one to fall and not him.

Aziraphale could be fit into certain categories of the seven _deadly _sins. He shouldn't be able to, because angels were supposedly above all else but that had been proven false because Crowley had never met anyone as prideful as Gabriel, who was a bloody _archangel._

Aziraphale was lumped in the category of _greed _and _gluttony. _

Knowing the angel for eons proved time and time again that the angel was synonymous with food and his books.

Crowley found it rather endearing, those little parts of the angel that were rather unholy.

He took pleasure in Aziraphale fawning over new (old) books, or how the angel's eyes glazed over when eating a particularly sweet or tart dessert. 

Crowley always found himself wishing he could be looked at like that.

As if he were the only thing in the world that mattered to Aziraphale.

Crowley sometimes had fantasies where Aziraphale was a demon, and that way they could have been together with no hesitancy.

There would be no long lingering looks or, "_you go to fast for me Crowley"_, because they would have already been in a relationship for years and years.

And Crowley knew deep in his heart that this was the better way to go. That waiting and waiting for little snippets of hope from the angel was the best alternative because he could never actually wish for Aziraphale to go down the dark and despairing path of being a fallen angel.

So he teased Aizraphale about his _greed _and _gluttony, _and he helped the angel indulge himself, but he never pushed too far.

After the fire at the bookshop, Crowley had affirmed that he would be desolate without the angel by his side as he was now.

So he would bide his time, and wait for that perfect moment to tell the angel that they were meant to be, because finally, _they were on their own side._


End file.
